


Rogue Shadow

by Tessa_Saddie_Bridger



Category: DCU, Marvel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:28:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22807096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tessa_Saddie_Bridger/pseuds/Tessa_Saddie_Bridger
Summary: “You can take my Childhood, Memories and keep ‘em. I’d give ‘em up for just a little bit of freedom.”The child; a runaway; an escaped experiment; an enigma. Taken by a man prepared to do the unforgivable. With hidden memories and a complicated past, she stands alone. Injured, abandon and on the run; no one to trust and nowhere to go. A stolen childhood, fragmented memories, a broken soul, and a shattered heart. She’ll walk through hell if that’s what it takes to get back home. And Gods save anyone who dares stand in her way.
Relationships: Family - Relationship, Father/Daughter - Relationship, Sister/Sister - Relationship





	1. Prologue

# Prologue:

**In the Beginning:**

**01:13 Saturday, 7th October 2017**

Walking down the dimly lit hallways, the man forced himself to continue putting one foot in front of the other.

_Show no fear._

Ensuring his face showed nothing of his fears or apprehensions, he pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the oppressive office.

A tall man sat at the desk in the centre of the office – the only piece of furniture in the room. His hair was immaculate, pulled back and tied up at the base of his head. He wore a dark suit over a long, white, button-up shirt. He could have sworn he saw a drop of blood on his boss’s sleeve, but perhaps it was his imagination.

He cursed himself for allowing his mind to wander and forced his focus back onto the desk in front of him. Papers lay in neat piles side by side, and a row of black folders lined the side.

“Report,” his boss demanded, not glancing up from his work.

“She escaped, sir.”

“What?” he said, his voice dangerously low.

“The Ryan family were successfully eliminated, but Experiment 13-X wasn’t there. Our information was dated. Our agents spotted her leaving the scene with a government agent and followed her. He and the car were destroyed but there was no trace of the Experiment. None of our men made it back alive.”

“What happened to them?” he demanded.

“We don’t know, sir. 13-X was our best; it appears she took them out and vanished. We have no leads.”

_“Find her!”_

“Sir, we have two units searching-”

“Send another. Send them all if you must. Don’t let this trail run cold!”

“Yes sir.” He knew the drill by now. Don’t speak out of turn, don’t stuff up, don’t irritate the boss and you won't get killed.

“How did she escape? How does she keep _evading_ us? Two years! Nearly two years she has somehow remained hidden from us. Someone must be aiding her. She cannot be doing this alone. Someone outside of the government… somebody unaccounted for…”

“Forgive me sir, but there is no evidence of any involvement. ASIS was moving her from home to home under the false ID of Natasha Turner. Perhaps they have just done the same again?” He was careful to voice his opinion, not wanting to be on the receiving end of his boss’s wrath.

“No… she is too well trained. She was an assassin before we took reclaimed her. She knows how to hide. She knows how to kill. She is dangerous.”

“Sir, my units are hunting for her, do they have permission to shoot on sight?”

_“No!”_

His boss shot up, chair scraping against the metal floor in protest as it fell back, hitting the flood with a clang.

“Sir?”

“Experiment 13-X is far too valuable to kill. We have invested too much time and money in her to destroy. Bring her to me – I want her _alive_!”

“Yes sir.”

He turned around, leaving the office in a hurry. He would not remain in that man’s presence any longer than absolutely necessary. There was something off about him. Even as his boss began to shout accompanied by the rustling sounds of paper flying and folders clattering to the ground, he did not turn around.

_“Find her! She cannot evade us forever. I want her found!”_


	2. The Shadow

#  Chapter 1 – The Shadow

**Chapter 1 – The Shadow**

**02:00 Thursday, 7 th September 2017. **

In the quiet of the night, stars shone their brilliant light down from the heavens, illuminating vacant streets. A gentle breeze that smelled of spring and an oncoming storm whirled past. Through a sole window, beams of moonlight cast a silvery glow over a young girl. Her face was pale and shrouded in shadows, sea-green eyes scanned the horizon.

The pair of eyes belonged to a child; full of wanderlust she sat on her windowsill, legs swinging and hair blowing in the gentle wind. Wide awake and trembling with fear, the child named every star she could see, as if that would ever be enough to rid herself of the terrible fear she woke up to every night. Memories of hell fresh in her mind, there would be no more sleep for her tonight. The darkness; the fear; the pain. It was all too much. Perhaps no memories were better than this.

_Why me?_ The one question that constantly flew around her mind. Why was she taken; tortured? Why did the Australian Secret Intelligence Service rescue her – why had they been looking for her? How did they know where she was? Where were her people – where did she belong?

Nat remembered that night so clearly – it was one of the only things that she could remember – men shouting, guns blazing, there was so much noise. The details were lost but the feeling remained. She had been so scared. Yet so filled with relief and hope when the red lights came.

Once Nat was safely back with ASIS, a woman explained to her how she had been abducted by a terrorist organisation. She was told that her name was Natasha Turner, (as she had only remembered the name Natasha, and nothing else) that her parents worked for the government, which was why she was taken, they guessed, for information. And when she was taken, her family fell off the grid, not even a whisper of who they were or where they went. But strangely, Nat had no recollection of her former family; she couldn’t even begin to picture what they looked like. Being an amnesiac sucked. It made for some awkward conversations. ‘Where are you from? I don’t know. Didn’t you ask your parents? I don’t remember my parents.’ Yeah – no. No, thank you.

ASIS was not allowed to tell Nat about her captors, because it was all top-secret information. Meaning that the only way Nat was ever going to find out what happened to her, is if she went digging herself. Apparently, hacking into ASIS was supposed to be almost impossible. But, the computer ASIS provided Nat with for Homeschool was connected with the mainframe, meaning that she could just trace their signal and hack into their mainframe from there, simple really. The terrorist organisation that took her, Hydra, had a long record of abducting boys and girls between the ages of eight and fifteen, with only a small percentage of survival. Unfortunately, the information on what Hydra does to their victims is kept on paper record only.

Just because Nat had almost no memories of what happened to her, didn’t mean she couldn’t speculate. Nat had a pretty vivid imagination. The added brands, tattoos and scars littering her body didn’t help either. The disturbing nightmares could only allude to so much, especially when Nat couldn’t hold on to the dreams. Every time she woke it was the same feeling of hopelessness and desperation. Every moment she lay there motionlessly, she could feel the memories slipping away, like smoke through her fingers.

Nat only managed to hold onto one thing from her past; a light blue anklet with a small silver dolphin dangling a few millimetres down. She had been wearing it since she first woke up. No memories. Not photos. Just a single piece of jewellery. Even then, she was ignorant of its significance to her past. Her mind was like a blank canvas: mouldable and vulnerable.

The silhouette of a colony of bats glided across the ground. An audible sigh of deep longing could be heard. If only she could fly. Then she’d be free to fly far away from here. But longing for the impossible was useless. It brought nothing but disappointment and false hope. Clearing her head of useless fantasies, Nat breathed in the cool, damp air – rain was coming.

Nothing in Natasha’s life was constant. Always moving, always changing. Nat had no stability in her life, she was moved from foster home to foster home every few months. Nothing was permanent. Well, almost nothing. There was one thing. A Shadow.

***************


	3. Forever is a Lie

#  Chapter 2 – Forever is a Lie

**Chapter 2 – Forever is a Lie**

**06:37 Thursday, 7 th September 2017**

Moving her feet to the windowsill, Nat climbed out of her room and onto the roof. This was the best place to see the stars. The tedious task of putting a name to every visible constellation seemingly better than revisiting her nightmare. Bits and pieces from her past that she could never quite grab onto. Images and feelings, words were spoken to her from unseen people. Murderous deeds are done by figures in the dark – never coming into the light. It seemed like Hell on Earth.

But dark figures were nothing new to Nat, for she, Natasha Turner, had a shadow. A shadow not of her own. A follower. Never able to lay eyes on him, he came in the wind. He was the shadow. Who he was, she didn’t know. But in many ways, Nat didn’t mind him always being there. Because he was there, watching. Just watching. Always there, always watching over her.

Seventeen months after being rescued, her nightmares became more frequent, more vivid, more realistic. They were vivid and horrific, and many time Natasha had awakened believing that she was back in the Godforsaken place. But the one thing that always seemed to ground her to the present was him. The Shadow always seemed to be there. Outside her window, in her room, on top of the roof. Following her, trailing her. Always present, always there. Her protector, her Shadow.

The fuzzy glimmer of light on the horizon quickly turning into a glorious sunrise, Natasha stayed where she was. If only life could always be this simple. So small was she in comparison to the infinite size of space, in this universe, and the next.

A baby’s cries woke the household. Excited talking from the lack of school, AFL Grand Final Friday was here. Scurrying back into her current residence, Nat changed into denim shorts, a Richmond Tigers polo shirt and an Adelaide Crows hoddie. Fifty bucks the Tigers win.

“Morning Nat,” greeted her foster father, David. “Laura’s got breakfast on,” he said on his way to Cian’s room. Cian, a two-year-old boy with curly blond hair, who was absolutely adorable, was the youngest child in the Ryan family.

“Want me to check the twins are up?” asked Nat, knowing how chaotic mornings could be. Helping out with the morning routine became a common occurrence with Nat. Homeschool had given her a lot of free time.

“Yeah, thanks, darling.”

Walking down the hall to the door that declared ‘Giselle & Jacen’ Nat opened it and entered. Prepared for the battle that would surely follow to get the younger kids out of bed, Nat was not ready for the Lightsaber battle she walked in on. The two six-year-olds may have had a small obsession with Star Wars. And the only thing small about their obsession is their height.

“Ahsoka! It’s Lord Chaos – attack!” Jacen screamed to his sister, halting their fight.

“Right behind you master,” Giselle said with a smirk on her face as she charged at Nat.

Nat waited until Giselle was close enough before side flipping out of the way. Reaching forward, Nat picked Giselle up and held her as a shield from her brother.

“Gotcha!”

“No! The ruler of the universe has taken my padawan – I will avenge you!” he said between fits of giggles.

“Nope, not today Jace,” said Nat, plucking the toy Lightsaber out of his small hands. “Breaky time.”

Coming downstairs, Nat and the twins joined Brookelyn – their nine-year-old sister – and Cian at the dining room.

“Stay here and don’t blow anything up.”

“'Don’t blow anything up' what?” asked Brooke with a smirk.

“Without me,” she said as if stating the obvious. “I’m gonna go help,” said Nat, walking into the kitchen. “Laura, anything I can do?”

Laura turned around and surveyed the benches, “grab the pancakes, will you?”

“Sure,” Nat grabbed the plates and made her way back to the dining room. The rich aroma of blueberry and chocolate chip pancakes filling the house.

_“-eave? I don’t understand.”_ David’s muffled voice came from the study. Creeping closes to hear, Nat pressed her ear against the door. _“Everything’s fine; she’s great...”_ Another pause, _“well, where will she go?”_ Silence. _“But that’s not fair – yes, I understand… okay.”_

Pulling back sharply, she blinked away tears. No. Not again. It was happening again. Why did it have to happen again? It wasn’t fair.

Steeling herself, Nat took in a few shaky breaths, plastered a smile on her face and raced (carefully, she was still holding two plates of pancakes after all – she wasn’t a savage), into the dining room. Sitting down with her temporary family, Nat went about her day, smiling, laughing, cheering on the footy. And no one saw the hidden pain that laced her face, nor the fact that Natasha’s smile never reached her eyes.

***************

With still over an hour left on sunlight, Natasha sat atop the tallest branch of the resident Mango tree, watching the sunset over suburban Kooragang Island. Eating a whole mango off the tree from boredom, it really was a wonderful place to just sit and contemplate life. When a mother bird returns to her three baby Robins, Nat pondered what it would be like to have a home like that. Somewhere you can return to; somewhere to call your own.

“Nat?” called Laura, scanning the tree for her foster daughter of three months. “Hun, are you up there?”

“Yeah, I’m coming down.” Now, scaling down this massive tree, there is a slow and painful way – climbing down, or the fun way. Taking the faster of the two, Nat grabbed onto the rope and swung down. Natasha had escaped to that tree so many times that she attached a couple of ropes to the tree to make the climb easier and the escape route faster.

“I’m leaving. Aren’t I?” asked Nat, looking down. One glance at Laura’s face and her fears were confirmed. “Look, I get it, okay? All good things have to come to an end, right? End of the line…”

“Natasha, it’s not like that,” started Laura, the hurt evident in her voice. She didn’t want to have to be the one to tell her this.

“Don’t sugar-coat it, Laura – please. It’s fine. Seriously. I’m used to it anyways,” she mumbled bitterly. “I should have expected it – three months in the same place? That’s got to be a record.”

“Nat, we love having you here, but-”

“You’re all liars!” she screamed out, turning her back on Laura and ran.

“Natasha, we don’t want you to leave, you need to understand that. We don’t have a choice-” But her claim fell on deaf ears. The half-eaten mango lay forgotten at the base of the tree. Laura sighed in exhaustion. Why was the poor girl’s life so hard?

“Mummy? Is Natty okay?” The innocent question came from Giselle. Her six-year-old daughter absolutely adored Natasha. She had accepted Nat as her big sister from day one. This was going to be so hard on the kids… all of them, Nat most of all. Natasha was the glue that brought their family together. With her gone, things would never be the same.

“Yeah Zellie, Natty’s going to be fine. But she has to go away for a little while…”

***************

“Hey Lyn,” greeted Nat, sounding moded, as Brookelyn walked in, holding Cian on her waist.

“Giselle was crying… she said you’re leaving?” it came out more like a question than a statement. Natasha turned away from her bag to look at Brooke. “You’re already packing?” Brooke asked, shocked. Everything was happening so fast.

“Will you come back?”

Nat let out a sigh before answering, “I don’t think so, Lyn. This is it. Time to move on.”

“But,” sorrow so deep, her words could barely form, “I want you to stay.” Cian started crying as soon as he couldn’t see Nat’s face. Whispering words of comfort to the toddler, Nat took the boy from Brooke’s arms. As soon as his tiny arms wrapped around her neck, the wailing stopped and was replaced by soft sniffling.

“Looks like Cian doesn’t want you to go either,” said Brooke with a chuckle. “At least lemme help ya pack.”

“I don’t really think I’ve got a choice.” Nat put Cian down on the carpeted floor, grabbing her magnet puzzle tetradecagon (a fourteen-sided polygon) she placed it in Cian’s hands.

This was always the hard part. Going through all your possessions, figuring out what to keep, and what to throw away. Not like she ever had that much to begin with, but there was a limit on what you could bring to a foster home. The girls listened to music while they packed everything Nat needed into her bags. Only talking when necessary, Brooke didn’t go on about how unfair it was, or how she wished her big sister could stay. However hard it was for her to accept her sister moving away, she knew it would be ten times worse for Natasha.

Even though she’d never say it, Nat was grateful for the comforting presence beside her as she packed her life up for the thirteenth time in seventeen months. It was encouraging to know she would be missed. At least this had been real; the friendship, the fun times. All those happy memories for Nat to treasure. Natasha’s computer, books, and sketchpads all went into a bag, with toys, unnecessary clothing and items were left behind.

“Hey Giselle, Jacen,” Nat greeted with a small smile. She was going to miss these guys.

“Why are you leaving?” asked one.

“Don’t you love us?” asked the other.

“Of course, I do. Guys, I don’t wanna go, but I’ve gotta,” clarified Nat, sitting down on her bed.

“Why?” whined Giselle. “Why can’t you stay here forever with us?”

“Come here,” she said, gesturing for her four foster siblings to join her on the bed. With Cian in her lap and the others either lying on or hugging her, Nat explained her situation in terms that they would understand. It had been a long journey, and it would be longer still. Her family was out there, somewhere. Waiting for her to come back home. And she had to find them.

“Nothing lasts forever. Forever is a lie. All we have is what’s between hello and goodbye.” Holding Jacen’s hand, Nat swallowed hard, why was her mouth so dry? This was so much tougher than any time previously. Why did she have to care so much about these kids?

“It’s not over yet. We still have tonight and tomorrow.” Natasha looked deep into every pair of eyes; chocolate brown, hazel, golden brown, and eyes so brown they were almost black, soul-searching orbs. These guys had been her friends. They helped her fit in and remember who she really was. And now it was time to say goodbye.

“All of you, listen to me because this is so very precious. Life is short. There is no time to leave important words unsaid. Do not hold on to anger or hatred, revenge will poison your heart. You need to learn to accept the things that you cannot change. Don’t let this blemish our memories together. Please understand that life is not always fair. You just have to play the cards you’ve been dealt, as bad and unfair as they may seem.” Nat finished with a sad smile on her face. A friend had told her that once. Who, when or why, she couldn’t recall. But his words of wisdom had never left her.

Glistening tears rolled down Giselle’s face, her twin’s obsidian eyes shining. With tender hands, Natasha wiped the cascade of tears away.

“Be brave for me, okay? Everything will be okay,” she promised. And as she rested her head in Cian’s curly hair, she prayed that for once, she was not wrong.

***************

There were a few gentle knocks on the open wooden door before David walked in. By the window seat, sat Natasha. Her knees pulled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around her legs.

David said nothing as he walked over and sat down next to the girl. When Nat didn’t acknowledge his presence, David sighed in understanding and looked around the bare room. The amazing drawings that once covered the walls were gone, leaving a plain and decollate feeling in the room. A large grey and blue backpack sat by the door, leaning against a packed duffle bag.

“I heard what you said to the kids…” started off David, sounding slightly awkward and uncomfortable, his posture uncertain, stiff, and ridged. “I understand how hard this is for you… and I appreciate you explaining it to them,” he said, referring to his biological children. Nat nodded, not taking her eyes off the backyard. “They wouldn’t have taken it half as well if we had told them.”

When Natasha didn’t answer, David continued, “I want you to know that we tried to get them to let you stay with us. Laura and I care about you Natasha, as does Brooke and to the kids. We’ll miss you Natty, you really brought this family together.”

“Thanks,” her voice was low and robotic, void of any emotions. Her way of dealing with pain was to bury her emotions. A bad habit and not exactly healthy, but it was how she kept herself going. Making herself numb to pain meant that she didn’t have to deal with painful and unwanted emotions of care and attachment. They were a distraction. Unnecessary. A liability. A luxury not compatible with nor necessary for survival.

If she shut herself out, then she wouldn’t have to face the pain later. That was why Nat was generally detached, disinterested, and disrespectful. Cause if she stopped herself from caring, from forming attachments, then she wouldn’t be hurt later when she was taken away.

But Brooke had come to her; she had spoken to her; convinced her to lower her walls. She had allowed herself to care. The repercussions for such actions: feeling as if her heart was being ripped in two.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Those words pained him because he knew that would be the last time those words would ever be true. This was Natasha, his kids’ sister – and by right – his daughter, and she was being taken from him. His oldest child. Gone. Like a shadow in the night.

***************

**11:58 Friday, 8th September 2017**

Nat put on a brave face as she pulled away from Brooke. It was time to go. With a sad smile, Nat recalled this as being the only place she had left with fond memories and a farewell party. Because Nat did not attend public school, her only friends were from the neighbourhood. So all the kids – and some parents – who knew Nat and had become friends with her over the past three months were out on the street to say goodbye.

"Yo looser!" a cocky voice broke free from the small crowd of people. "Didn't think you could leave without sayin’ g’bye, did ya?"

" _MJ?_ " shock laced her voice.

Merliah Jewel Bright.

She was Nat's first actual friend. They met over a year ago and despite constantly moving around, Merliah and Natasha had remained close friends. For Christmas, after knowing each other for only a month, Merliah got Nat an iPhone, so they could stay in touch. Their family had even gone as far as to foster Nat for two months; they had wanted to adopt the girl too, only to find out that her file was frozen.

"Hey sis," she said with a smirk.

"Liah… you came," said Nat in disbelief. Her best and only friend had come to see her off. After a moment of taking her surrogate sister in, the two girls ran to each other, colliding in an embrace.

"Gods I've missed you," MJ whispered into Nat’s ear, so only she could hear her.

“I got you this,” MJ said, holding up a small velvet bag, “for protection.” (to keep you safe)

Stunned at her friends’ kindness, Nat was frozen for a good ten seconds before she tipped the contents of the bag into her hand, a black leather cord with a silver pendant attached fell elegantly into her palm. Picking it up to examine the design on the circular charm, Nat recognised the symbol on the front. The _Zibu_ sign called _Hamada_ , which represents Vitality (basically meaning strength or energy. Vitality is the essence of life). Surrounding the sign were waves.

Natasha ran her fingers across the pendant; a strange feeling washing over her, one of strange nostalgia that wasn’t totally unwelcome. Nat could feel a memory on the verge of resurfacing. On the flipside, the symbol of Hope from the same language, called _Sati_ , was in a continuous loop around the edge. The _Sati_ ring encircled a firebird insignia. The universal symbol for rebirth, immortality, hope, and freedom. The design was beautiful. Intricate detail adorned every fragment of the charm.

On the cord was also a ring. The outside looked as if it contained the ocean itself, flowing and moving in the light of the sun. Equilateral etched inside the silver ring was a minuscule drawing of another _Zibu_ sign, the word _Huka_ (which Nat remembered being the English name of the Arabic symbol, which stood for Awakening), and the inscription _Παιδί ωκεανού._

Merliah looked hesitant about what she said next. She spoke in an undertone that gave Natasha the impression that there was more to it than she let on. “It’s to remind you never to give up… to be strong and well – to keep you safe.”

_“Thank you.”_

A strange sort of hush fell over the neighbours as a sleek, black, government vehicle pulled up. Waving goodbye to the small crowd of gathered people, Nat and MJ walked side by side up to the man in a black suit standing by the car. Agent Henderson. Same as always.

MJ turned and wrapped her arms tightly around her friend. “I’d say good luck, but I know you don’t believe in that.” Nat could see the pain her friend was in, her small smile not reaching her eyes. But for her sake, Merliah put on a brave façade and stood back from her. Just as Nat closed the black car door, she heard two words leave MJ’s mouth.

_“Die bravely.”_

***************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to comment any ideas for the story. Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Thanks for reading.


	4. Too Soon

#  Chapter 3 – Too Soon

**Chapter 3 – Too Soon**

**23:32 Thursday, 5th October 2017**

Sitting on the rooftop that she was _definitely_ meant to be on, Nat's mind wandered back on the previous month of hell. Why did this keep on happening? So many people in the world, but _no_. The Fates decided to make her insignificant existence as miserable as they possibly could.

Nat closed her eyes as a light breeze hit her face, thankful for the cool night during October, the month of mixed seasons. Fingers gently brushing against the purplish mark on her cheek, Nat let out a resigned sigh. That was nothing new either. The injuries. Torture, abusive foster homes, it all just added up. Long, curly hair blew around Nat's face as she watched the busy road. Cars drove past, tired from a long shift and eager to get home. Blissfully unaware of a tormented child, mere meters away.

No one knew. No one cared. Why would they? What did the feelings of one child matter? She was a foster kid with a troubled past, who would believe her claims? Only a matter of time before she was moved again anyway, so what was the point? It was easier to keep her mouth shut.

One month. That was the standard time with any foster home. Most of the homes just seemed to blur together to form months loneliness and suffering. Natasha could count the number of families she had been genuinely happy with on one hand with fingers to spare. Sharing a room with MJ. The Ryans. That man who lived on a farm – what was his name? Cameron Hood and his daughter Molly. Such a tomboy if she'd ever seen one. That kid refused to wear skirts, dresses or anything resembling pink. Natasha had actually begun learning French while staying there, seeing as it was the family's first language.

It had only been one month since she left David Ryan’s home, yet it had felt like another lifetime since Nat had been sitting at the dinner table with Brooke and the rest of the family. A whole month without seeing MJ. Literally the worst form of torture known to man. Sure, they had texted regularly, but Natasha didn’t want to burden her friend with her problems, so she kept that can of worms firmly closed.

Then thinking back to her lost past, Nat reconsidered. If the scars that littered her torso were anything to go by, there had been much torture and abuse in her life. Yet knowing this gave Nat little comfort; she still missed her friend dearly.

Natasha let out a low sigh, combing her overgrown bangs out of her eyes with her small, scarred fingers. Hand coming to rest on her swollen, bruised, and blackened eye, Nat shifted uncomfortably at the memory. Even if she was used to the abuse, it didn’t make it any easier to deal with. One of the boys had jumped her while she was cleaning the table after dinner. She had dropped the plates which shattered on impact, she had been cut by the glass and then beaten by her foster carer, James. At least she healed fast. Give it a few hours and there wouldn't even be a scar. _This time._

The wind began to pick up and lightning light up the clouds, flooding the world around her with light for a split-second. The rain had not yet come, yet the clouds blocked out the stars. She sat outside for a few more minutes until water started falling from the sky.

Groaning in defeat, Nat sat up to begin her descent off the roof. A bolt of lightning forked across the sky, momentarily lighting up the dismal street and illuminating a shadowed figure. Not even a second later, a defining clap of thunder came. And just like that, he was gone from sight. But still, Nat stared in relief. He had found her. She was safe. Why this random shadow made Natasha feel safe, she had no clue. But he did, so she accepted the fact. He had been gone since Natasha was removed from Laura and David’s care and she and began to fear that she would never see him again.

The ongoing lightning strikes continued to show the strange man, standing out in the increasing drizzle of rain. They stood out in the rain, now a continuous drum on the corrugated roof, eyes locked despite the flickering light. Eventually, Nat turned away, determined to head inside before she became completely soaked to the bone. It wasn't like he was going anywhere.

***************

**07:30 Friday, 6th October 2017**

Seven-thirty. That was when James Anderson came downstairs. Meaning that Nat had to have breakfast and coffee ready and waiting by then, but not too early because then it would be cold and _oh no!_ Anderson senior can’t prepare his own food. _And_ their children's school lunches packed before that. When James came walking down the stair, his posture totally read _'I'm not going to deal with any of your crap today.'_ Which, for Nat, loosely translated to _'I will beat you up and take out all my frustration on you if you get in my way.'_

Nat picked up his coffee and set it on the table by his right hand. He didn't say thanks, he didn't even acknowledge her, but Nat didn't mind, she was far too used to it to care anyway. _"You are not to be seen; you are not to be heard. You will do what you are told when you are told – no exceptions or you will be punished."_ That was their rules. And that was how she lived.

Natasha could hear arguing coming from upstairs and rolled her eyes at the object of the quarrel. Nat had to resist the urge to shout at them to be quiet, just as she heard Bethany yell at her younger brothers.

"Would you two just quit it already! You're both beautiful ladies so just leave it at that!"

A few moments later both of them were racing down the stairs. Bailey with only his right sock on and Boston only had two buttons on his uniform done up. Nat finished setting the table and made her leave as the rest of the family came downstairs. No need to get into any more trouble today.

Natasha stayed well and truly out of the way, which was how she liked it. In any case, peaceful solitude was better than chaotic (and unwanted) company. Coming back from a household bin run, Nat finally had the house to herself – bar the cats of course.

Coco and Lala could usually be found slinking somewhere dark and small. James had left for work, and Adrienne had taken her kids to school on her way to work herself, leaving Nat to clean up, as per usual. Pulling her hair back in a messy bun, Natasha began her round of daily chores, humming the soundtrack of the Annie remake as she went.

***************

Almost two hours later Nat was finally done the abundance of chores left for her to do daily. Running up to her room, Nat spread her books, a pencil case and laptop in a semi-circle around her on the floor. Learning was something Natasha was good at. With moving from home to home every month or so, it became second nature to learn and adjust to specific requirements.

Home-school was easy, to say the least. Everything just seemed so simple. The only thing that ever stumped her was in English. Those _damn_ prefixes and suffixes made no sense. If ' _dislike_ ' is the opposite of ' _like_ ', is ' _disaster_ ' the opposite of ' _aster_ '? And why isn't ' _whelmed_ ' a thing? How can you be ' _overwhelmed_ ' and ' _underwhelmed_ ' yet have nothing in-between? _Blah!_

Nat was a whiz when it came to math and science, but her real forte was in languages. Chinese? Check. Greek, Russian? Double-check. German? Bingo. Arabic? Why not. Nat had even started a Romanian course last week and guess what – fluent! Natasha had a faint recollection of speaking Romanian to a kid when she was younger. Maybe at a circus? All she knew was it was noisy and colourful.

***************

Curled up in the corner of her room holding her new phone, Spotify open on the screen, Nat had large black headphones, pretending that this was all just a dream. _Astronaut_ , by _Simple Plan,_ surrounded Nat. As she closed her eyes and became absorbed in the song. Her body lifeless, face void of any emotion. The only signs of life being her deep purple eyes glistening with tears.

"Can anybody hear me?" she sung. "Or am I talking to myself? My mind is running empty, in this search for someone else, who doesn't look right through me. It's all just static in my head..."

_Why... Why me? Why does everyone have to leave? Why do I have to live through hell? Why can't I be with my family? Why don't I deserve someone, anyone, in my life? I was left alone, begging for help and no one heard. And I'm stuck here on my own, lost... forgotten to the world._

"Can I please come down? Cause I'm tired of drifting round and round. Can I please come down? I'm deafened by the silence. Is it something that I've done? I know that there are millions... I can't be the only one who's so disconnected. It's so different in my head. Can anybody tell me why I'm lonely like a satellite?"

"'Cause tonight I'm feeling like an astronaut, sending SOS from this tiny box to the lonely people that the world forgot. Are you out there? 'Cause you're all I've got."

_I lie awake every night, screaming in my head. The nightmares, the darkness... it's too strong. I can't fight it off forever. It's dragging me down. I don't know if I can ever come back._

“Can I please come down? So tonight, I'm calling all astronauts. All the lonely people that the world forgot. If you hear my voice, come pick me up. Are you out there? 'Cause you're all I've got...”

_Can I please come down?_

***************

**20:46 Friday, 6th October 2017**

"Natalie, get over here and clean up," Adrienne snapped at her once everyone had finished eating. Nat walked over to the sink and dishwasher in annoyance. A whole stinking month of this Schist!

"How many times do I have to tell you? My name is not _Natalie_ , it’s Natasha," she replied in a deadly calm to her foster mother.

The sound of Adrienne's hand connecting to Nat's face resonated through the house. Adrienne had slapped her. That Cow! Nat turned her head to look back at the crazy woman, ignoring the pain in her cheek that was already fading to a dull sting.

"I don't care! You are in Australia now, so you will act like it. No more _forging_ names!" she spat the word out like it was diseased.

"Seriously? Australia has only been colonised for two-hundred years. There is a _very_ small pool of names which originate from here!" Nat went off, not really caring about the consequences.

 _"In any case, Natalie is still Russian..."_ Nat commented back quietly. But apparently, the woman didn't like that. Not at all.

"How many times do I have to punish you before you get it through your head? Stop speaking that infernal language!" Adrienne yelled at the child as she slapped her again.

_"By the Gods, I didn't do anything wrong!"_

A moment later, James' fist connected to Nat's face.

 _Meh_ , she thought, lifting her face off the cold, hard ground. _I've had worse._

 _"Na pas sto diaolo,"_ Nat spat out in Greek, _"Go to Hell!"_

"That includes using that disgusting accent your parents gave you!" James' voice rang in her ears.

"You know what? _Vàll' eis Kórakas, Throw yourself to the crows! Flocci non faccio, I don't give a damn."_

Adrienne slapped her one last time, "and clean this mess up," before following her good-for-nothing husband to the couch where they proceeded to watch the news. _And I'm invisible again..._

She could fight back – Nat could easily defend herself – but it wasn't worth it. The last time she had done that, she almost ended up in juvie for assault crimes. So, Nat let them have their way with her. It wouldn't be for long anyway. She'd be picked up and carted off to some other place within the week.

_And that day couldn't come soon enough._

Nat was almost done cleaning the kitchen when something leaked through her mental block. Now, usually, Nat tuned herself out when around others because she couldn't be bothered with humanity anymore. But something the woman said had Natasha transfixed on the televisions.

_"…amily of six have been caught in an explosion in their own home, the origin of which is still unknown. Authorities and paramedics are making their way to the scene. Reports are flooding in that the residential home of 475 Honour Avenue; Graceville is engulfed in flames. There have been no survivors found. Neighbours tell us that the Ryan family was home during the explosion..."_

The sound of more glass plates smashing against concrete floors broke the silence.

A constricting feeling, much like an invisible hand grabbing at her throat seemed to be depriving Natasha of air.

_No..._

It felt like the weight of the world pressing down on her shoulders, crushing her in its presence. It was as if she was holding up the sky itself. There was no sound. No air. _Nothing_. Frozen in place, Nat could only watch the footage in horror.

_Please... no._

"Natalie, what the hell are you doing?" James screamed at the girl. But she just stood in stunned silence.

 _This couldn't be happening. How? Why? Why them?_ The amnesiac child could only process single word thoughts. It was all too much.

_No... no-no-no-no-no. Fire. Survivors. None. Explosion. Hydra. Escape. Help. Run. Run._

_Run!_

Freed from her temporal parlays, Nat's eyes darted wildly around the kitchen bench, coming to rest on a set of keys. Without hesitation, Natasha launched herself over the island bench and snatched up the keychain. She didn't stop running until she was out of the house and onto the driveway. Mounting Anderson's motorbike, Nat sped off, calculating time in her head as wind gushed past her. Fifteen kilometres, roughly twenty minutes at sixty k's an hour. Can make it in under three minutes with a hell-a-lot of speeding.

Surely enough, three minutes later the old home came into view, completely engulfed in flames. People were out on the streets. Neighbours had gathered around as emergency responders attempted to control the blaze.

 _"Nu!"_ a scream tore at her throat. Natasha had broken through the police barrier and climbed through a shattered window into a bedroom. Fire surrounded her, smoke billowing from under the door.

"Jacen?" she called out into intense heat. "Giselle! Where are you?"

Strong hands wrapped around her as she was thrown over someone's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. "No, no! _Lemme go!_ No, _Brooke_!"

 _"My family's in there,"_ she screamed at the A.S.I.S. agent holding her back, _"They're gonna burn – You're letting them die!"_ Nat didn't stop screaming until she was placed on the grass outside the blackened house, amber flames licking at the windows. Nat's arms were still pinned down by the man attempt to stop her from escaping. Her eyes were dull, black in their colour, the whites of her eyes stained red with pain as she watched on in terror.

"Natasha stop," he ordered. "They're gone. It's too late."

As realisation dawned on her that it was too late to save them, the struggling, kicking, and shouting all came to a halt. Natasha went slack in the man's grasp. It was no use. They were gone. Forever. _Like a shadow in the night._

 _"Pozhaluysta... net..."_ Natasha whispered in hopeless. It was over.

"This attack was meant to kill you. We need to go - _now_!" The words rang in Natasha's head half a dozen times before her brain actually registered what was said.

Nat's legs seemed to stop working as the words sunk in. unable to support her weight, she sunk to the ground. It was her fault. They were after her. Numb with pain, she allowed herself to be dragged to a government car.

_Or perhaps it could. That day was here. But at a cost._

***************

**22:43 Friday, 6th October 2017**

Red eyes stared out of the tinted window, hollow and full of pain. No matter how much she wanted to cry, to mourn their deaths, she could not cry. She had not cried in so long Natasha doubted she could ever cry again. It took a while before Nat found her voice again.

"W-where are you taking me?" Usually, Nat would never let herself be taken – at night no less – by some guy and follow him into a car. But Henderson was always in charge of relocation Nat, so he became the exception.

Nat looked away from the passenger window and to agent Henderson in the driver's seat. You know when grown-ups tell you everything's going to be fine, and you think they're probably lying to make you feel better? Yeah. That was his face. He looked like he wanted to lie, but he looked at her and thought better of it.

Natasha was in very real danger. And no amount of sugar-coating and curveballs could change that. "Hydra is after you. You can't go back to your foster home. You aren't safe anymore."

"They beat the crap out of me; how was I ever safe?" Natasha asked hotly, then, as an afterthought, she added, "why can't I just stay in one place?"

"You know why, Natasha-"

"No, I don't actually," she cut him off, irritation levels rising. When would people stop treating her as if she were a delicate, prissy little princess that could break down at any moment? "You never tell me anything."

 _Ouch_. Henderson looked over to the child next to him. Always on the run, life being torn apart before her eyes. She deserved to know.

"Hydra is still looking for you, Natasha. You were rescued a almost two years ago from a Hydra base. It's been my job to keep you moving every few months, so they don't catch up with you. But you were happy..." he shook his head, focus turning back to the dark, wet and ominous road. "I left you stay with the Ryan’s too long... and now you're in even more danger."

With a huff, Natasha turned away. She rested her arm resting on the door to act as a pillow for her head. The car trip was silent after that. Agent Henderson mulling over in his mind how he could keep the girl in the seat next to him safe. While Natasha was busy ignoring all of her emotions, like always.

There are two efficient ways to ignore what you are feeling. First, you can occupy yourself with as many thoughts and activities as possible. If your mind is busy, you won't have time to remember you are in pain. And second, nothingness. Complete and utter oblivion. Nothing to think; nothing to feel.

Option one is tiering but option two kinda makes you seem like a robot. _Oh well..._ Natasha's lack of thought was only interrupted by a faint sound coming closer and closer. Her eyes widened a fraction when the origin of the sound came into view. She barely managed to shout out a warning, _"Henderson, look out!"_ before the car was hit, rolling multiple times, eventually stopping on a – very destroyed – roof.

Searing, white-hot heat blinded Natasha as the car tumbled. Her entire left side covered in burns and blood. Shattered glass leaving hundreds of cuts bleeding, shards of glass protruding from the skin.

"Mister Henderson?" Natasha asked, coming out of a daze. "Mister Henderson!" Nat lifted her left arm to reach across and try and wake the unconscious Agent, but agonising pain stabbed at her arm as she yanked it out from where it was being crushed between the car door and seat. Natasha cried out in pain, her arm (correction: broken arm) had metal and glass sticking out of it. _Brilliant_.

"Agent Michael Henderson?" Nat called, desperately searching for signs of life. There was no reply. She forced herself to steady her breathing, listening for the sound of a second heartbeat.

_Nothing._

Ignoring the dead body less than a half meter away from her, Natasha focused on her other arm. Part of the roof had caved in and she couldn't get free. This is gonna hurt, was her only thought on the matter. Nat clenched her teeth together in preparation as she counted backwards from three. 

_Tri, dva, odin._

With an excruciating jolt of pain, Natasha forced her shoulder out of its socket. Natasha let lose a Russian curse.

Finally able to pull free, Natasha crawled away from the wreckage (severely cutting open her hands and knees on obliterated shards of glass in the process). Looking back at the wreckage, Natasha turned and took off into the woods.

Injured, bleeding, and on the verge of passing out, she stumbled and fell in the pitch-black forest. The trees bowed and bent low as a chilled wind howled through their branches. Not too far away, the distinct sound of a hunting cry. A pack of Dingoes were nearing.

With her vision going dark as the world spun at her feet, Nat saw about seven shadows, contracting into one man before splitting again.

 _"Rest now, kid,"_ a familiar voice that Natasha couldn't pinpoint spoke loudly. His voice was strong and clear, breaking through the confusion that muddled her brain. _"You're safe."_

***************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to comment any ideas for the story. Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Thanks for reading.


	5. Death Strikes Again

#  Chapter 4 – Death Strikes Again

**Chapter 4 – Death Strikes Again**

**01:16 Friday, 6th October 2017**

This wasn’t supposed to happen. A simple task to watch over a child and cover her tracks. That was it. Something shady was going on; surrounding this child and he felt obligated to help her. Nothing more. His former employs needed a ghost operative to protect the only child to ever escape Hydra. Unfortunately, _without_ her memories intact. Which made it that much harder to find where the girl belonged. That, and the fact that _Natasha Turner_ didn’t actually exist. Fake name, past everything. He knew that her personal file was made up. Hydra had been very thorough in making sure that no one could ever find her true identity, that was for sure. But ASIS had taken her fake information and put it into Natasha Turner’s file.

He didn’t need to watch over her every night – just keep tabs on the girl. Make sure no one picks up her trail and step in if she is in danger – so why did he feel compelled to go as far as helping her with her night terrors?

Probably guilt for not helping her earlier. He had been looking into Hydra ages ago for general intel as well as a more _personal_ reason. He knew that Hydra was affiliated with groups like the KGB and, going back in history, the Nazi’s, as well as being involved in their own projects to take over the world. He knew Hydra had children being held captive, but he was too preoccupied with a personal vendetta to help those child soldiers. He could have rescued her _years_ ago.

_But he didn’t._

A few days ago, he had gone to scope out the Hydra base the child, _Natasha_ , was found at after the ASIS raid to shut the operation down. Hidden deep within encrypted computer files was a folder called “Project: Rogue Wave.” It was everything Hydra had on her since she had been abducted during a failed infiltration, four years prior. However, all other information about that raid had been whipped clean. That facility had been shut down but was easy enough to find. Four years’ worth of torture, training, and experimental genetic tests; it was all there. She had been moved around constantly during that period to remain undetected, but no one seemed to know who she really was.

Yet the confusion bomb was dropped when her integration report stated that no mental wipe or mind control was had taken place in order to control the child. A few persuasive plays maybe, but nothing that would take away all of her memories. Overall, the child had given into to them; or at least, she made it seem that way. There was always a chance the Natasha was playing with them; biding her time until such an opportunity arose that she could escape. Natasha Turner was that name when she was rescued, because of some – _very_ concerning – writing on her cell wall. Concerning because it was, _well_ … it was written in her own _blood_. The writing was mostly untranslatable, apart from the Latin alphabet name “Natasha” and a few random phrases here and there.

According to the records of “Rogue Wave” known as simply as Rogue around Hydra, her given name was _Okeaniya Volk_ , filed years ago from her time in the Red Room; a Russian institute that trains young girls as spies under the cover as a prestigious ballet school. That place was a whole nother level of messed up.

Turns out that Hydra didn’t even know her real name. No one did. She refused to give any information, no matter how much pain they put her through; even the name Natasha was an alias to fool governments if they found her. Okeaniya Volk didn’t exist. The kid was a ghost. The was no records of a child her age matching her description that was unaccounted for. Slade sought out the original base Hydra used to imprison _Natasha_ , or whoever she is, out in America, in the hopes that there would be some clue as to who she is. For some reason, Hydra had gone to great lengths to keep her hidden away from the world; far enough to move her to the other side of the globe. No other file had been encrypted to the level of ‘Okeaniya Volk’.

There was almost nothing to go on, but the place wasn’t a total bust. On a cell wall, roman numerals in Natasha’s handwriting (samples of which he had collected from her schoolwork) were etched into a stone wall along with many other words. Most illegible or untranslatable. But a few lines stood out. _Forget the ocean. Protect them. Run. Leave. Don’t forget. Pretend. Memories safe. Remember who you are. Survive._

A sentence was written in Russian Cyrillic along the opposite wall, “ _Моя семья - моя сила и моя слабость.”_ Which said something along the lines of “ _family is my strength and my weakness.”_

The Ghost operative found an abandoned hard drive in a security room. Pocketing that for later, he headed to a private airstrip where an ASIS jet was waiting to take him back to Australia. He needed to check up on this _Phantom_ child, as she had been appropriately nicknamed. She could only be left alone for so long before she inevitably dug herself into a hole too deep to see the light of day, and four weeks was definitely too long.

After at thirteen-hour flight, he touched down on Aussie soil and, without even going home after his investigation, he made his way to Natasha’s current foster placement. And as usual, she sat alone on the slanted roof, staring off into the cloudless sunset.

How the child always managed to climb to the roof of wherever she was, he didn’t know. But he understood it made her feel safe when she could see the stars and know that she wasn’t trapped, so he wouldn’t try to stop her. He knew she was more than capable of getting up there safely; the kid could handle herself. Satisfied that she wasn’t in any imminent danger, he left to a local safe-house to extract as much information as inhumanly possible from the broken hard-drive.

***************

**20:46 Friday, 6th October 2017**

Frustratingly, the hard-drive didn’t seem to have much – if not any – data on this “ _ghost child”_. _Typical_. He was so immersed in his work he almost didn’t hear an alarm going off from a device stashed in his belt. The tracker he had placed on the child last time she had a particularly distressing night terror mixed in with lost memories slowly resurfacing. It was nanoscopic and connected to the necklace she ever took off. He had set it to go off if the child in question left the proximity barrier – which she had. At alarming speeds too. Why did she have to be running away again?

He unmuted the news on another monitor and listened to the “breaking news” with increasing concern. Reading the location on the bottom of the screen, he double-checked the tracer in the girl. That’s where she was heading. And if this attack was planned by Hydra, she would be in a lot more danger than usual. _Dammit._ Kid was gonna get herself killed.

He kept a close eye on the girl as she was dragged out of the burning building and into an unmarked car. ASIS Agent Michael Henderson. The man assigned to her safety. _Good going dipstick, you led them straight to her._ That man was a fool for what he had done to her and in idiot to think she would still be safe afterwards.

The only problem with following from a distance was that he was too far away to get the girl out of the car safely before it turned into a fiery mess. Checking that the girl was still breathing, he turned back to find the assailants. It would be no use if they could come back to kill her later. But by the time he had finished the guy off, Natasha had somehow escaped the car wreck. Not really caring about the Henderson oaf, he followed the slightly alarming amount of blood leaving a trail into the woods of the side of the road.

Natasha was still losing blood when he found her. It was obvious that she was trying to stem the flow, but not really succeeding. She was refraining to make a sound in case she attracted unwanted predators (the kid _was_ in a forest after all), aka dingos or drop bears. She was leaning against a tree trunk as she struggled to remain conscious, failing miserably at the latter. He watched as her eyes went in and out of focus many times, the struggle evidently becoming increasingly more intense with each passing moment if the look on her face and lack of control to her limbs were anything to go by.

“Rest now, kid,” he said. “You’re safe.” At his words, there was a split second of confusion before she managed to process what was said. Within seconds she was out cold, her face contorted in pain as she slept restlessly.

***************

**02:10 Saturday, 7th October 2017**

Natasha felt herself being placed down on what felt like a table with a thin mattress. She was still in a considerable amount of pain, so much so that her vision was still blurry. Jerking up, she looked around in panic. _Where the hell was she?_

“Hey, kid,” said the same voice as before, “try not to move around too much. You’re injured.”

Looking down at her abdomen, she finally realised why her stomach felt so itchy. A hastily wrapped bandage adorned her – still bleeding – torso. The man from the forest (only one of him this time, Natasha realised as her vision finally cleared) walked over and placed something down on a table next to Nat’s head. He was dressed in cargo pants, shirt and a jacket that looked of army origin. For the life of her, she had no clue as to why he had rescued her.

_Who the hell was this guy?_

“You’re lucky you’re not dead,” he looked her in the eye, and it was then that Natasha realised he only had one. The other was covered by a black eye-patch (this guy a pirate or something?). “That explosion should have killed you.”

_Yeah, and so should have a lot of other things, but I'm still breathing… unfortunately._

Pirate dude took a step closer to Nat. And in her panicked state, she leant back on her hands to attempt to get as far away as possible from him, conveniently forgetting that one arm was broken, and the same shoulder had been _deliberately_ dislocated. A small cry escaped her lips as pain – almost like electricity – shot up her arms. Leaning forward, Natasha cradled both her arms in her lap, she took in sharp breaths in an attempt to steel herself. She refused to show weakness.

_Weakness is not tolerated._

“Natasha,” a voice that commanded respect spoke, breaking her out of her pain-filled trance. “I have to set your shoulder.” One of the cuts right next to her eye had reopened and left a small trail blood down her face. Strangely, Nat felt the man was actually looking at her for permission. After a few seconds of letting her brain catch up to her, Nat nodded her head twice.

“Okay,” he said. Nat felt, rather than saw (her vision was still blurry, and tainted slightly red from blood obscuring her vision) the man put one hand near her shoulder and the other grasp her lower arm. Gently pulling the arm behind her, he asked if she was ready. Taking a few shuddering breaths, Natasha had to bite back a scream as her shoulder was forcefully jolted back into its socket.

The ghost agent was exceedingly shocked that the girl didn’t scream; she wasn’t even crying. The only sound that escaped the injured child was a hiss as her shoulder popped back into place. How this kid; this _eleven_ -year-old _child_ , was considered human, was crazy. Her pain tolerance was incredibly high. He didn’t even want to _think_ about what she would have had to go through to build a tolerance to pain like that.

Groaning a few times as she rotated her shoulder back and forth, she didn’t realise the man had left her side. He came back moments later with an exoskeleton type contraption. Holding a piece in either hand, Nat had to appreciate the spiderweb design, it looked like a Spiderman, sci-fi... thing.

“It’s a cast,” he explained at her dumbfounded look. The expression on her face changed from confused to understanding and – almost – excitement. _Almost_.

“You have a 3D-Printer?” he had to resist the urge to laugh at the girl. Of all the things she could have asked.

“Yeah, now give me your arm,” he said sternly when she seemed to forget its intended purpose of the object. Natasha watched in fascination as the cast was clipped on, covering her broken arm. New tech was always interesting to mess with.

“Kid,” he said, gaining her attention. “I need you to remove your shirt… I have to see how badly you were injured.”

_Oh, crud._

It was harder than it sounded to remove one’s shirt with a broken arm and a newly re-located shoulder that still hurt terribly. Seeing her struggle, he stepped forward and reached for the bottom of the girl’s ripped, burned, and blood-stained shirt and held a pair of scissors up. Nat nodded once at his silent request. Her shirt was ruined to the point of no return anyway. **~~He pulled the ruined shirt up and over her head~~** **,** He cut the shirt slightly off-centre and slowly removed it from her, careful of her injuries, and discarded it in the bin along with the abandoned bandages.

He momentarily forgot that he had a child to treat at the sight of old wounds and scars littering the child’s torso. _There were just so many…_ Forcing himself to stay on task, he grabbed a wet rag and began to wipe away the blood. Many cuts that were causing bleeding were from shattered glass. Most weren’t even that deep, just grazes from the mayhem. But there were a few deep gashes with shrapnel still inside. The girl didn’t even flinch when he pulled the pieces of debris out of her abdomen and back.

Once again going over her torso with a wet rag, he was confused to see many of her wounds had almost finished healing. Yet one press against her ribcage confirmed his suspicions when the child, yet again, hissed in pain and flinched away. Broken ribs. She was gonna need the serum. And probably an IV.

“Kid, I need to put you on a drip.” Natasha’s breathing hitched at the mention of needles, only for pain to shoot through her chest. Broken ribs really made it hard to breathe.

“ _No,_ ” she whimpered. _“Please… don’t.”_ He could see the pure terror in the girl’s startling sage green eyes. Of course, she would be afraid of things being injected into her. Those disgusting _monsters_ had experimented on her. On a _child_. Injected her with strange chemicals that caused her unimaginable amounts of pain. They had done so much to her. It was a wonder how the girl was still sane, let alone alive.

“Tash, I’m just trying to help you,” he said in a quiet and calm voice. If he got agitated, she would no doubt sense it and have a full-blown panic attack. “I promise, the only things in it are saline, dextrose, electrolytes and vitamins.”

He could see the girl trying to regain her composure but evidently struggling. He laid a hand on the girl’s less injured arm and looked her in the eye, “I’m not going to hurt you.” He knew she was scared. She was scared to death. So many people had hurt her to the point when she had lost her trust in others. He knew she was terrified, but if he didn’t do this, the kid could die.

Looking into eyes that seemed to be able to read the universe, he couldn’t help but feel sorry for all the young girl had had to deal with. There was so much pain hidden beneath her deep green orbs. So much loss. Walls built up to protect her from being hurt again. Broken and fractured; they were falling apart.

_And so was she._

“Tasha, I need you to trust me.” After staring into his single eye for what felt like an eternity, Nat’s eyes flitted around the room once before landing back on the man. A small nod, only just seen, was all he needed. He got to work immediately. Guiding her to lie down, he readied the equipment, brushing the girl’s overgrown bangs out of her eyes, he promised her that everything was going to be okay. Attaching the bag of fluids to the girl’s arm, he then held up a syringe containing a gold-coloured liquid within.

“Pain killer.” She looked sceptically at the colour, so he elaborated. She needed something to trust and he would do everything he could to give her that.

“I can’t give you a general anaesthetic because your metabolism will go through it too fast; it will be,” he hesitated, searching for the right word, “ineffective. This is my own formula. You are immune to most drugs – pharmaceutical _and_ illegal. Anything less won’t work on you. I designed this for you to heal injuries and numb pain.” She still looked hesitant, but in the end, discomfort won over distrust. And even if it all went downhill, Nat figured things couldn’t get much worse than they already were, which was an unsurprising revelation on her part.

At the kid’s go-ahead, the gold substance was injected into the IV chord. He watched as she stared, unblinking and unseeing at the ceiling above. If you looked at her close enough, you would notice the miniscule movement of her shaking in fear. _Emotional overload._

Natasha, this _child_ , had been alone for so long now, she had forgotten what it was like for someone to help her. Forgotten what it was like to trust someone.

 _“Why- I don’t… Who are you?”_ the soft and innocent question penetrated the silence.

“Slade Wilson,” his reply was short. There would be plenty of time to talk later. For now, he was more invested in keeping the kid alive.

“Get some sleep kid,” he said softly. “God knows you need it.” That was the last thing she heard before she let the darkness consume her.

***************

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed. Please feel free to comment any ideas for the story. Feedback and constructive criticism are appreciated. Thanks for reading.


End file.
